Stepping out in faith

"The cold of space smote the unprotected tip of the planet, and he, being on that unprotected tip, received the full force of the blow. The blood of his body recoiled before it." (Jack London in "To Build a Fire")

In his short story, "To Build a Fire", London makes the point that the man's fatal flaw was that he didn't have imagination and, as a result, he underestimated the cold. Lately, every time I catch myself saying the words, "I can't imagine", I feel a subtle shiver of fear ~ Fear that my lack of imagination is limiting what God wants to do in my life; fear that I will miss opportunities to serve, opportunities to stretch, opportunities to share that which has changed me so profoundly.

In London's story, there were characters who tried to break through to the man and communicate what he needed to know to survive. The old man in the store reminded him that his spittle would freeze by the time it hit the ground if the temperature was 75 degrees below zero; his spittle froze mid-air. It didn't even make it to the ground. Clearly it was cold. But the man missed it. His arrogance clouded his mind and he missed it.

The dog that traveled with the man knew how cold it was. He didn't need thermometers or even spittle crackling in the air. He knew in the deepest part of him that he needed to be back at the camp where there was fire. He knew what the man could not, because the man thought he was in control. The dog survived.

London does not bring any theology into this story, but the reader can. When I am in communion with God, I sense deep in the deepest part of me what I am to do. But often it is much like static on a radio and tuning into those thoughts that God is giving me is challenging. I sort of hear it, then I lose it. I get a glimpse, then it's gone. But if I discipline myself in those times and get quiet, I will know. It may not be as clear as I like; but I know what God is calling me to. With fear and trepidation, I take a tiny step in the direction I am to go and the thought becomes clearer. With each tentative step, the sense of direction becomes stronger. However, with each step, the chances increase that I will become arrogant and forget what drives me; forget that it is God who directs me.

And so, I am grateful to Jack London for his story of the man with no imagination. I am grateful to be reminded that I am in danger of losing my direction if I don't stay deeply connected in step with God. Like a little girl putting her tiny feet in the giant footsteps of her father, I stretch my legs to reach the next footprint before me and trust God with all of my heart.

Beautiful Feet!

After the long flight to Johannesburg, our ankles were swollen and our spirits challenged by the unexpected delay of two days before the next flight into Mozambique. As we rested that first night, we wondered what God was doing. We had glimpses of his Divine Plan as we prayed for people God put in our path in South Africa. Once we got into Mozambique, we immediately experience a most divine appointment with the boy who had no shoes. (See Sept.10th "Coming and Going")

Tonight I was reading Romans 10 and came across one of my favorite verses: "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring the good news!"

Paul is explaining to the Romans that living the Christian lifestyle is important, but we must also "preach" the good news. Paul asks us: " . . how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?

Evangelism is more than just living a certain way; we must not only "go", but we must "tell". Some of us are actually called to get on a plane and fly half way around the world to share the gospel with those who haven't heard it yet, but most of us are called to turn around and look to the north, the south, the east, and the west of our homes and simply ask God to direct our feet. Who is it that God is putting on your heart today? Who is it that will be forever changed because of your obedience to share the wonderful news that Jesus loves them and died so that they might be forgiven and set free from the chains that bind them? What a privilege to be a part of the transformation of a single life! Go and tell!

Beautiful Feet!

After the long flight to Johannesburg, our ankles were swollen and our spirits challenged by the unexpected delay of two days before the next flight into Mozambique. As we rested that first night, we wondered what God was doing. We had glimpses of his Divine Plan as we prayed for people God put in our path in South Africa. Once we got into Mozambique, we immediately experience a most divine appointment with the boy who had no shoes. Click here.

Tonight I was reading Romans 10 and came across one of my favorite verses: "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring the good news!"Paul is explaining to the Romans that living the Christian lifestyle is important, but we must also "preach" the good news. Paul asks us: " . . how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? Evangelism is more than just living a certain way; we must not only "go", but we must "tell". Some of us are actually called to get on a plane and fly half way around the world to share the gospel with those who haven't heard it yet, but most of us are called to turn around and look to the north, the south, the east, and the west of our homes and simply ask God to direct our feet. Who is it that God is putting on your heart today? Who is it that will be forever changed because of your obedience to share the wonderful news that Jesus loves them and died so that they might be forgiven and set free from the chains that bind them? What a privilege to be a part of the transformation of a single life! Go and tell!

Right Song, Wrong Side

Many years ago, I heard an amazing sermon by this very title~"Right Song, Wrong Side". In essence, it was the story of the Israelites who faced the Red Sea as the Egyptians pursued them (Exodus 14-15). They complained bitterly to Moses that it "would have been better to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert"! But Moses told them to stand firm and they would see the deliverance of the Lord! And they did~the sea parted and they crossed on dry land. On the other side, they sang songs of praise and thanked God for his deliverance. Right song~wrong side!

When we are facing barriers in our lives, that is the time to praise and thank God for his deliverance; that is an act of faith.

When our team arrived in Johannesburg, we were 15 minutes late and missed our plane to Mozambique; we had to remain in Johannesburg for two days. We were flexible and sought the Divine Appointments God had for us in South Africa. However, when we got to the airport on Wednesday, we were told that we had no tickets to Mozambique! It was one of those moments, one of those special moments, when how we responded would determine the rest of our journey spiritually.

As we huddled in a circle, seeking God's direction, I was reminded of this sermon I had heard so many years ago and shared it with the team. "So let's start praising God"! And that is what we did~we stood there in the Johannesburg airport without tickets into Mozambique and praised God for what he was doing and what he was going to do! Needless to say, we got tickets to Mozambique, and we continued our journey seeking to do God's will every step of the way. It was a trip filled with obstacles and barriers, and we had many opportunities to respond in faith through praise and prayer. I am grateful for that pastor long ago who shared this interesting perspective he called "Right Song, Wrong Side", and am grateful to God that he is faithful in all circumstances.

Back to Bethel!

Matthew 28:19 tells us to go into the world and make disciples, and that is the Scripture that drives the vision of the work in Mozambique that calls me back to Bethel once again. This lovely little place is where my missionary journey began; where God touched my heart and changed it in ways that altered the focus of my vision in remarkable ways. Nothing looks the same.

Last night, I came home after Portuguese class and, as I walked to the house from the garage, I happened to look up. The stars glittered in the sky as only they can on a crisp fall night, and I was taken back in my memory to the stars of the southern hemisphere as I stood still in Bethel for as long as possible to drink in the night sky and the unfamiliar constellations. It' s the ordinary things that I see differently today. While in Mozambique, I noticed that we snapped pictures of flowers, clouds, beaches, boats, birds, each other~ ordinary things that didn't seem ordinary because we were in Africa. When I came home, I began to look at the beauty of the ordinary things around me as if I had a new sense of sight, and that has not faded in two years. I confess, I was a bit that way before I traveled to Mozambique, but something has shifted in me and I experience a heightened sense of beauty in the ordinary.

Perhaps that is what it means to have the "eyes of God". Perhaps when we can look at ordinary things and see extraordinary beauty and value, we are seeing the world as God sees it. I once heard it said that saints were just ordinary people used by God in extraordinary ways~I believe that is true. If we truly allow God to use us in any way he chooses, we will live extraordinary lives, to be sure.

Write What You See

Sometimes there are not words for an experience. When we went to Mozambique this fall, we took very little with us. Mostly we took our desire to pray for the people God put in our path. Chicuque Rural Hospital provided an incredible opportunity to do just that. We found the people there incredibly open to our offer of prayer in spite of the language barrier. We stumbled through the little bit of Portuguese we knew and hoped we had asked correctly, "May I pray for you?" Folding our hands, pointing, smiling~we would gesture what we meant in case our Portuguese was not understood. They understood. Sometimes people would stand back and watch to see what we were doing, then they would motion for us to come to them.

Everywhere we went, we prayed for those around us as often as the Spirit of God moved us. Some of us were more comfortable than others at first, but God has his plans. He drew us into opportunities and gave us the courage and the words. He changed us as we prayed and I believe that he changed those for whom we prayed.

Before I left on this trip into Mozambique, I believe God urged me to "write what I saw". My mind is filled with the images of Mozambicans who smiled through their pain and wept as we prayed for them in a language they did not always understand. I particularly saw the exhaustion and frustration of the leaders there who work daily with not enough equipment or resources. God has called them to care for his people in this part of Mozambique and they are trusting in his provision. I continue to pray for his provision for the people of Mozambique.

Coming and Going

Coming and going into and out of Mozambique is not always simple. This trip, it was complicated and we found ourselves delayed for two days in Johannesburg. We had prepared to be open to whatever God wanted to do with us on the journey, but it took a little while to get that maybe he had a "plan" for us in South Africa before we ever got to Mozambique.

Her name was Angela~ and she responded to prayer like a potted plant that longed for a drink. She was our cook the first night at the guest house in Johannesburg and we connected with her in prayer the second night. She asked for strength to live the kind of life God would want her to live. She was orphaned and lonely. I believe with all my heart that she was the one of the reasons were were there.

On Wednesday, we finally arrived in Mozambique. We drove through Inhambane to get some metacais (Mozambican money) and while Jill and I waited in the van for the money transaction to take place, two young guys asked us to buy some coconut bread. These are delicious little rolls sold on the streets by kids for about a dollar. Pastor Jonathan bought a bag for the team then went with the others to handle the money transaction. The driver took the van to put some air in the tires then returned to the area where we had dropped off the rest of the team. As we waited, these two boys showed up again. At first we dismissed them~ we had already bought their bread; but eventually we yielded to their winning smiles and started to try to talk with them. In halting Portuguese, I asked their names and they responded: Sergio and Joao. Sergio, it turns out, knew a little English~ whew, that made communicating much easier. I know just enough Portuguese to get myself into trouble. As we "talked", Sergio pointed to the word "Methodista" on the van and said he was a Methodist. I asked him to tell me what he knew about Jesus. At first he seemed stumped, then as I started to tell the story, he began to talk about the third day~ His face lit up and his eyes were alive with excitement. He knew all about the resurrection and was very impressed that Jesus rose from the dead. So, by the way, am I. ( Sergio is the one in red and Joao is in blue.)

Out of nowhere, Sergio pointed out that his friend Joao had no shoes. Caught completely off guard, I looked down and saw that indeed, Sergio had no shoes and it looked like he had never had any. Immediately, we started asking where shoes could be found in Inhambane. The language barrier slowed us down tremendously, but God had his plans.

Pastor Karen came along with the rest of the team right about this time. She saw what was happening and dug her suitcase out of the van, out from under all the other suitcases, right there on the street. She took out a pair of shoes (I believe she had just bought them in Johannesburg) and put them on Joao's feet. He hugged her with gratitude and we all knew that once again, God had his plan. This is only the beginning of our "comings and goings" in Mozambique!

African Mornings

"African mornings" begin for me around 4:30 EST. It doesn't seem to matter what time I go to bed or if I napped the day before; my body is still on Mozambique time. It will pass soon and I will be on USA time shortly, so I am savoring these early morning moments as a time to pray for the Healing Hands team, for the dedicated men and women we worked with at the Chicuque Rural Hospital, and for the Cambine sewing school and seminary. It is also a time to pray for the many people with whom we shared the Gospel and prayed while we were there.
This trip was an amazing journey with many twists and turns along the way. Whenever our "forward progess" was thwarted, we were able to seek the divine appointments God had for us in the places we found ourselves stalled.
It will take time to process all God did in us and through us while we were on this trip. For now, I am just filled to overflowing with gratitude for the opportunity to participate in God's amazing plan to reach people with his healing love and mercy~to the ends of the Earth! Kanimambo Xikwembo Xamatemba~ thank you powerful God!

Friday Night Fire

Alone, but not lonely, I went to the bottom land near the creek where we have carved out a piece of ground based on memories of campfires and volleyball parties of former days when all this land belonged to our family and we had freedom to enjoy every acre.

The crackling fire accompanied by the songs of the coming night~birds, crickets . . . then dirt bikes and ATVs break into my silence. But they're just having fun. There's no malice as the screams of gasoline engines pierce the sweetness of the evening. Still, I'm grateful when it passes and I can soak in the silence again.

As I gaze into the fire, the recent promptings I've sensed from God lately come to mind.

Words from God come to us mostly through Scripture or personal prayer, but sometimes he will speak to someone else in prayer so they can speak it to you. Daniel, a man known for his sensitivity to God's voice, prayed for me on June 11th. One of the things he said was, "Relax". Lots of people tell me I should relax, but hearing it from God was most effective. I have obeyed. I went to the beach for a week without my laptop, without anything that could even resemble work. Several mornings, I awoke quite early and walked to the beach for some alone time with God~listening; seeking God's direction for my life.

"Scribe" ~ that was one of the prophetic words I heard. As I walked along the beach, I began to ask him what it was that I was suppose to write. Silence. If he spoke, I didn't hear.

Then tonight, sitting silently before the fire, I asked again.

"Write what you see", I sensed.

"What am I going to see, Lord?"

I immediately think of my journey to Mozambique.

"Am I going to see people healed? Will I witness sight returned to the blind? Will the lame walk? Will the oppressed be set free?"

That is my hope for this mission into Mozambique ~ that God will use the Healing Hands team to heal his people in Mozambique.

Of course, he wants to heal his people everywhere, even here. But the climate in Mozambique increased the probability. There's so much doubt here ~ so little perceived need. The people of poverty and pain are ready to receive healing. And I am ready to write what I see.

Moments to remember

Summer is such an exquisite time of the year. The annual trek to the lake house with long-time friends was lovely, as always. There is nothing more relaxing to me than floating on a raft watching the clouds shift in shape or staring into the campfire enjoying the silence of the evening broken only by the croak of a frog or the gentle splash of a fish~and, of course, conversation.

But moments such as these must end and we are called back to life as we know it.

The drive back into the city was peaceful enough. Not much happening on the highway at 6:30 a.m.

Serving breakfast to the hungry folks at East Liberty Crossroads campus followed by worship was a good way to re-enter the real world. The day was filled with busyness and meetings and even some frustration, but deep in the back of my mind, I was still floating on the raft. I can retreat anytime I want by simply revisiting that experience~

As I prepare to return to Mozambique this fall, there are memories I revisit to remind me why I want to return. Little Lucas, who was so sick then after prayer was playing and healthy, is a memory I revisit often. It reminds me that God wants to heal his people and he wants to use us to accomplish that purpose! How amazing to be a part of such a moment.

This next trip is stretching me, stretching me beyond my comfort zone to be sure. We call ourselves the "Healing Hands" team, and it is our intention to allow God to use us any way he chooses as we share the good news of Christ and pray for healing for the people we meet while we are there.

In Scripture, healing always seems to go beyond the physical realm to the spiritual. In 2Chronicles 30, Hezekiah prayed for the people who came to the Passover unprepared~ unclean. They had strayed so far from the ways of God, they had forgotten the ceremonial cleansing required by God, and Hezekiah asked God to pardon everyone who "set their heart on seeking God". Then he says, ..."and he healed them". God heals us where and when we truly need healing. When we ask for physical healing for someone, we often overlook the spiritual condition of that person. God does not overlook the spiritual needs; as a matter of fact, he goes right to the heart of the person and heals them from the inside out.

It is my humble prayer that God will have his way this September with the Healing Hands and use us to bring healing, physical and spiritual, to the people we meet in Mozambique.

Something about the sand

Busyness is a dangerous thing.
"Relax~ refresh . . . Go on vacation", they say.
It was wonderful to get away; not easy to be "unplugged" but oh, so necessary. The early mornings called me to the sea to walk alone and listen for the still, small voice of God . True refreshment happened there. Not in the normal trappings of "vacation", but in the tuned-in time I spent totally focused on what God is doing in my life these days, and what he might be saying to me. I was reminded of my desire to make a difference in the world and to keep that purpose in mind as I pursued the goals before me. It is so easy to lose sight of the very thing God keeps putting before me as I am so busy doing the "stuff" that needs to be done.
And so I retreat~for me the definition of "retreat" is to come apart from the things of the world and seek the face of God; to listen to his voice and be refreshed by his presence.
Sometimes the presence of God is like the sand. It rubs away the outer layer to bring forth what's underneath. In an oyster, a simple grain of sand can produce a pearl! I think God allows these grains of sand into my heart so that I will grow as a result of my mistakes and learn how to use the very things that irritate me to produce something of value. It isn't easy to find the value in the painful processes of life, but the promise of the pearl keeps me going. Only God can take something like a grain of sand and make a pearl of it.

A Day Away

Those of you who know me well, know that I don't take many days "off". It seems I have to leave the nest to truly relax. Yesterday was one of those days for me. With my new Mad River Rabbit Canoe on top of the old Blazer, an old friend and a new one in the passenger seats, and a cooler with fried chicken and potato salad, we took off to have an adventure. Lake Arthur was our destination, and one of our few goals was to not tip the canoe!

It was a pleasant day, to say the least. Full of ourselves for being the independent ladies we set out to be, we managed to heave the canoe back on top of the vehicle, strap her down so she didn't move, and make our way back to Pittsburgh without incident. No serious philosophy to be spouted here or theological point~ just enjoyed the day and decided to share it with you. Thanks for coming and I hope you come again.

Tears of compassion

Often when I speak with folks about the work in Mozambique, someone will respond with overwhelm and suggest that we can't really make a difference in a place with such extreme poverty and extensive needs. Recently, I responded to one of those comments that what he was calling a "drop in the bucket" was actually a more like a tear in the ocean ~ A tear of compassion for those who have no justice in the world. When we shed that tear, God takes it and multiplies what we offer beyond our imagination. Life in the Kingdom of God is always unpredictable. From our perspective, the tear would be absorbed, diluted~ Instead of being diluted, our compassion spreads like yeast in dough and is used by God to ripple out through the sea of humanity. We rarely see what God does with our tears, but God is working out His purposes in the world and he invites us to be a part of His plan. No matter how small your offering or how ineffective your acts of love and compassion may seem~remember that in the Kingdom of God it will be multiplied and used by the mighty creator of the universe to bring mercy and grace to those in need.

“Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?”
Mark 16:3 NIV

The women, who followed Jesus to Jerusalem, to Calvary, and finally to the tomb were totally devoted to him. Motivated by gratitude and love, they bought the necessary spices to anoint his body and waited for the Sabbath to be over. Very early, just after sunrise, as they were on their way to the tomb, they wondered aloud how they would accomplish their mission. They had seen the Roman soldiers secure the tomb with a large stone and had no idea how they were going to roll the stone away. And yet they went.
When they arrived, the stone had been rolled away and an angel told them to “go”~ Go and tell the disciples, "He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you”. Redirected by God, they had a new mission!
So it is with our missions in life~ whether in a foreign land or in our neighborhood~ we gather what we need, we set out, and we wonder how we will "roll the stone away". There are always obstacles that seem too big, too overwhelming for us to accomplish what we believe God is calling us to do. In human terms, it is not possible, but God has a plan that we can’t even imagine.
Think back to the women who came to anoint the body of Jesus~ it wasn't even there. But God had a different mission for them; their mission was to “go and tell”. That is always our mission. No matter what else we are supposed to be doing in this life, we have the great commission to “go and tell”~ tell others that Jesus is risen and will meet us in our deepest need.

The Easter season is a time of new beginnings filled with hope and joy. Taking the time to focus ourselves on the meaning of life is an aspect of being human that is not found in the rest of the animal kingdom. Recently, I have been considering what it means to "lay down my life" for Christ. How do I take up the cross and follow him? I do not live in a time or place where my physical life is threatened because I am a believer~ though I know a few who do live under those circumstances and admire them greatly for their faith and courage.

Still, those of us who live in a culture where it is "safe" to worship and profess our belief in Christ are asked to lay down our lives; we are to die to self. When we are totally submitted to the will of God, our personal agenda disappears. That sounds so simple, yet it is totally complex. As a human being, my "wiring" tells me to exert my will on my surroundings, to be in control, to do it my way~ always. Like a decorative bonsai tree, our nature would have us grow in a particular direction. The bonsai artist wires the branches and forces the tree to grow the way the master desires. Unlike the bonsai master, God does not force us to grow his way. He beckons us; he woos us; he loves us into the shape he desires. Nature has always been a reflection of the majesty of God for me. From the tiny fingernails of a newborn child to the magnificent night sky, God is showing me his power, his perfection. On this Easter weekend, in exchange for his incredible gift in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus the Christ, I offer him my life that he may use me in any way he chooses to reach into the lives of those he longs to touch with his love and healing. Alleluia~

Missing the point

Oh, that I could draw! As I read Luke 2 tonight, I had a vision of the birthplace of Jesus and I wish I could draw it~ it would be my Christmas card for the rest of my life. Art through the centuries paints a picture of the birthplace of Jesus that misses the whole point. It was not a pastoral scene as pictured in this Renaissance painting.
It was not even a quaint, humble stable as pictured in the cards of greeting we send to one another as we celebrate His birth. It was most likely a cave with a shallow trough carved out of the rough rock~ dark, dank, dirty. Cold. Comfortless. Not unlike the cement floor on which this little one of Mozambique rests. My little Lucas . . .




If we really pay attention, this dark, dank cave in which Jesus was born was a picture for us of the world without Him. Jesus came into this weary world to bring His light into the darkest, dirtiest places we can imagine~ It is this light alone that can save us from the sin we are so bent upon.
Because of our incredible lack of imagination, we miss Him continually. When he came into the world in such humility, His chosen people missed him because they expected something different~ a militant savior who would deliver them from political oppression. What He offered was freedom from the oppression from sin and eternal life in His Kingdom. We are so short sighted~ still~ with all we have, with all we know about the life and actions of Jesus. We still don't really want what he has to offer.
What do we want from Jesus? We want God to provide what we think we need in this life. He actually gives us everything we "need". As a result, we miss Him. We think we need things: money, jobs, homes . . . (the list is longer than I dare attempt), and when He doesn't supply those things in the way we expect, we miss Him. If we look at what He actually does provide for us, we will realize what we really need and fall on our faces in humble gratitude and awe of His provision.

Unplugged

Deep in the night after the heavy snow, there was a sound much like lightening then a boom somewhat akin to thunder. Again,~and yet again. As I lay there, I realized it was the sound of branches breaking under the weight of the snow and falling into the deepening snow beneath. I listened. Once again, the trees were being pruned. The weak branches that survived the winds of November were now yielding to the sheer weight of winter.
With the falling branches, came downed power lines and life as we knew it ended~ suspended for a week. Powerless. We gathered ourselves as a family and met the challenge with creativity and humor. We are fortunate to have a wood stove and a generator; we are even more fortunate to have a sense of life unplugged as not such a bad thing. We worked harder for the ordinary things so long taken for granted. We melted snow for water to heat in large pots on the wood stove for bathing; redefining showering together as my husband poured the steaming water over my soapy head and I returned the favor when it was his turn. Shivering, laughing, enjoying the simplest of pleasures.
I felt a twinge of regret as our power was restored this evening. For a week, we lived as a family totally connected. Unplugged from TV, computers, radios ~ Needing one another for amusement. Enjoying one another through the storm. The real challenge is to find this intimacy without the snow, without the loss of electricity. Are we up to it?

Heart for Mozambique

Today they took pictures of my heart.
I can't wait to see them because I know there is nothing wrong with my heart~ it is just changing shape. My guess is that it will look a lot like Mozambique. Whenever he talks about the country to new teams preparing to go on a mission trip there, Pastor Jonathan refers to its shape as "heart like". In an elongated sort of way, Mozambique is shaped like a heart. More importantly, it is shaping our hearts to look more like God intends: caring for others and reaching out with the Gospel of Christ as we become the hands and feet of our Lord among the people who long for the good news of a gracious, forgiving, healing Savior. The Living Water trip is preparing for departure on April 10th. Another trip is forming as a medical trip in August. It is my prayer that God will guide our "missionaries" as we lean into Him for wisdom and discernment regarding His work there and how He wants to use those of us who long only to serve Him from the center of His Will.

To the cross I fly

This female cardinal hit the window
and was sitting in the snow,
so I brought her in until she gathered her "wits"
and could fly.

When she flew to the cross, I knew she was ready to go back into the world.


I am grateful for those times when I hit the window and someone
gathers me up and keeps me safe until I am ready fly again.